Do well thrive by them; and when they have lin'd their (Coats, Do themselves Homage, Thefe Fellows have fome Soul, Were I the Moor, I would not be Fago: For when my outward Action doth demonftrate Rod. What a full Fortune does the thick-lips owe. Jago. Call up her Father, Roufe him, make after him, poifon his Delight. Plague him with Flies: Tho' that his Joy be Joy, Rod. Here is her Father's House, I'll call aloud. Rod. What ho! Brabantio! Signior Brabantio! ho! Enter Brabantio above. Bra. What is the reafon of this terrible Summons ? What is the Matter there? Rod. Signior, is all your Family within? Jago. Are your Doors lock'd? Bra. Why? wherefore ask you this? Jago. Sir, you're robb'd; for fhame put on your Gown, Your Heart is burft, you have loft half your Soul; Even now, very now, an old black Ram Is Tupping your white Ewe. Arise, arife, 1i3 Awake Awake the fnorting Citizens with the Bell, Bra. What, have you loft your Wits? Rod. Moft Reverend Signior, do you know my Rod. My Name is Rodorigo. Bra. The worfer welcome; I have charg'd thee not to haunt about my Doors: Voice My Daughter is not for thee. And now in Madness, To ftart my quiet. Rod. Sir, Sir, Sir Bra. But thou must needs be fure, My Spirits and my Place have in their Power Rod. Patience, good Sir. Bra. What tell'ft thou me of Robbing? This is Venice: My Houfe is not a Grange. Rod. Moft grave Brabantio, In fimple and pure Soul, I come to you. Fago. Sir, you are one of those that will not ferve God, if the Devil bid you. Becaufe we come to do you Service, and you think we are Ruffians, you'll have your Daugh ter cover'd with a Barbary Horfe, you'll have your Nephews neigh to you, you'll have Courfers for Coufins, and Gennets for Germans, Bra. What prophane Wretch art thou? Fago. I am one, Sir, that comes to tell you, your Daughter and the Moor are making the Beaft with two Backs. Bra. Thou art a Villain. Jago. You are a Senator. Bra. This thou fhalt anfwer. I know thee, Rodorigo. Rod. Sir, I will answer any thing. But I befeech you, If't be your Pleafure, and moft wife confent, As partly I find it is, that your fair Daughter, At this odd Even and dull Watch o'th' Night, Transported with no worfe or better guard, But with a Knave of common hire, a Gundalier, Το To the grofs clafps of a lafcivious Moor: I thus would play and trifle with your Reverence. Tying her Duty, Beauty, Wit and Fortunes Of here and every where; ftraight fatisfie your felf. Bra. Strike on the Tinder, ho! Give me a Taper--call up all my People, Jage. Farewel; for I must leave you. Against the Moor. For I do know the State, To lead their Bufinefs. In which regard, Tho' I do hate him as I do Hell's Pains, Yet, for neceffity of prefent Life, I must shew out a Flag, and fign of Love, Which is indeed but fign, that you fhall furely find him, Lead to the Sagittary the raised Search; And there will I be with him. So farewel. [Exit. Enter Brabantio in his Night-gown, with Servants and Torches. I i 4 With With the Moor, faift thou! Who would be a Father? Bra. Oh Heav'n! how gat fhe out? Fathers, from hence truft not your Daughters Minds Rod. Yes, Sir, I have indeed. Bra. Call up my Brothers; oh would you had had her! Some one way, fome another----Do you know Where we may apprehend her, and the Moor? Rod. I think I can difcover him, if you please To get good Guard, and go along with me. Bra. Pray you lead on. At every Houfe I'll call, I may command at moft, get Weapons, hoa! And raife fome fpecial Officers of might: On, good Roderigo, I will deferve your Pains. SCENE II. The Street. [Exeunt. Enter Othello, Jago, and Attendants, with Torches, Jago. Nay, but he prated, And fpoke fuch fcurvy and provoking Terms Againft your Honour, that with the little Godliness I have, That the Magnifico is much belov'd, And hath in his effect a Voice potential The The Law, with all his might to enforce it on, Oth. Let him do his fpight: My Services, which I have done the Signory, I would not my unhoufed free Condition For the Seas worth. But look! what Lights come yond? Enter Caffio with Torches. Jago. Thofe are the raised Father, and his Friends; You were beft go in. Oth. Not I: I muft be found. My Parts, my Title, and my perfect Soul Fago. By Janus, I think no. Oth. The Servants of the Duke, and my Lieutenant : Caf. The Duke does greet you, General, And he requires your hafte, Poft-hafte appearance, Oth. What is the matter, think you? Caf. Something from Cyprus, as I may divine: It is a Bufinefs of fome heat. The Gallies Have fent a dozen fequent Meffengers This very Night, at one anothers Heels: And many of the Confuls, rais'd and met, Are at the Duke's already. You have been hotly call'd for, When being not at your Lodging to be found. The Senate hath fent about three feveral Quefts, To fearch you out. Oth. 'Tis well I am found by you: I will but spend a word here in the Houfe, [Exit Othello. Caf |